


God and Coffee

by quiescentcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiescentcas/pseuds/quiescentcas
Summary: Supernatural Prompt ChallengeDecember: AU’s Prompt: ‘Should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in?’





	

It was five in the morning, and Cas hadn’t come home last night. The Impala rumbled to a halt outside the little coffee shop Cas and Dean co-owned. Sunlight was barely peaking over the horizon, and a brisk wind ruffled Dean’s hair as he walked over to and unlocked the front door of the shop. Yet as cool as outside was, the air that hit Dean upon entering the building was practically freezing. He shivered, wrapping his leather jacket tightly around himself and folding his arms across his chest. 

Once Dean had reached the thermostat, turning it on and jacking the temperature up to 80 degrees, he walked over to the back room where a whirring noise and the sound of muffled rock music could be heard through the door. As he opened the door to the back room, a gust of even colder air hit Dean. He scanned the room, seeing a fan spinning on high power, a radio blaring, and Cas who was sitting, shoulders hunched, in front of a coffee machine with a screwdriver in his hand.

Dean strode over to the fan and promptly switched it off. “It’s cold as God’s balls in here!” he declared loudly.

Cas gave a start. “Dean?” As Dean wandered over to him, he put down the screwdriver and rubbed his eyes with his hands, his fingers passing over the stubble on his cheeks. He blinked, as if he’d finally registered what Dean had said, and turned to the man standing next to him. “What?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, I figure, if it can be as hot as Satan’s balls, then why not as cold as God’s?”

A frown formed on Cas’ face, though it was more pensive than angry. “I don’t believe Satan is as exactly as antithesis to God as you think,” he mused.

“What, then, God has an evil twin sister or something?”

“No, it’s just that-”

“Okay,” Dean interrupted. “You can spare me the lecture. Just tell me why it’s so damn cold in here.”

Cas yawned. “I’ve been trying to fix this coffee machine all night, and I thought if it was cold enough I wouldn’t fall asleep.”

“Has it worked? Can you fix it?”

“Obviously, and apparently not.” Cas sighed, putting down his screwdriver and reaching over to a half full mug of coffee. As he picked it up and took a swig, Dean noticed that his hand was shaking a little.

“Uh,  should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in?”

“No, this is only my eighth cup,” said Cas, after another mouthful of coffee.

“Eight! Jesus, Cas.  You need to stop and sleep, if you’re still able to.” 

He shook his head and drained the mug, slamming it down on the counter. “I need to fix this before the morning shift.”

“Here, let me take a look,” Dean offered. Wordlessly, Cas got up from his seat and let Dean sit down in his place. It took Dean only a couple minutes of poking and prodding before he said, “Ah, I see what’s wrong.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Yep, just gimme a minute.”

Dean picked up the screwdriver Cas had and began working on the machine. He’d grown up helping his father and Bobby fix up cars, and, while cars and coffee makers were two different things, Dean had a knack for machinery. He understood that all the bits and pieces had their place, no matter how small, and if one of them wasn’t where it was supposed to be, the whole damn structure would fall apart.

The radio kept playing while he worked, and he could feel Cas watching him closely. Dean smiled, Cas had tuned to a rock station that Dean would’ve picked, and ‘Highway to Hell’ was playing. Despite his need for focus, Dean found himself tapping his foot to the music.

“Hey, that reminds me,” Dean said, his head sticking halfway into the coffee maker, “I need to write this in the letter that I’ll give to you, provided I die first.”

“What?” Cas replied slowly, as if he’d just snapped out of a trance.

“I mean, I’d give it to Sam,” Dean continued, “but I don’t think he’d respect my wishes.”

Cas was, again, slow to comment. “I don’t understand.”

“He wouldn’t find it funny,” said Dean.

“Find what funny?”

“My funeral playlist.”

“Dean?”

“Y’know for when I die. It’s gonna have classics like that: Highway to Hell-”

Finally catching on, Cas groaned, “Dean-”

“Running with the Devil-”

“C’mon-”

“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper-”

“No-”

“Another One Bites the Dust-”

“Seriously?”

“The End-”

“Dean!”

“Looks like I’m done.”

“I… I don’t think you’ve played that one for me yet.”

Dean’s head popped out from the coffee machine, and he sat up straight. “No, I mean I’m done. I fixed it. Here.” He plugged it in, and a small, green light came on.

“Thank you! You’re a genius you know, Dean.”

Dean blushed, getting up from the chair. “Aw, no, just good with my hands.” He stepped aside to let Cas take a look at his handy work.

“Don’t I know it,” Cas murmured, smiling though he was facing away from him. He put on a more sincere tone. “I’m serious though; you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

“Nah, I’m not smart unless people tell me I am,” said Dean, waving his arms through the cool air and flexing his stiff fingers. “I think I’m like a god that way; I need worship to exist, and if I don’t get it I flail.”

Cas gave a yelp as, on the word ‘flail’, Dean had wrapped an errant arm around his waist and pulled him in.

Cas turned to face him, curling an arm around Dean’s neck. “You are smart,” he said earnestly, “and the moment you start telling yourself that...” he pulled Dean down to him, kissing him once on the lips, “well, you’ll live forever!”

“I guess that makes me God then.”  

Cas snorted. “Your balls must be cold if they’re the same temperature as this room.”

“They sure are,” Dean agreed.

“Would you like me to warm them up for you?”

“Now you’re finally understanding.”

Dean leaned down and kissed Cas again, and with a wicked smile, Cas’ lips parted from his.


End file.
